Chadwick — Magic Brain Calculator (It was built in Japan) …item 3.. LCSO: Deputies Arrest Man for Stealing Scrap Metal — a total of 5,650 pounds of metal from the fenced lot owned by Grimes. (January 11, 2012) …Image by marsmet552
The Magic Brain Calculator was a device used many years ago (mabye 1950’s) to solve maths problems. It requires you reset it to all zero’s to begin with and after a bit of practise you can solve many types of mathematical calculations.

Clearing the device is just a matter of pulling the metal bar at the top of the machine and pushing it back in. Calculations of up to 8 digits can be performed such as addition, subtraction and multiplication. There are no details on if this device can divide although I am sure the brainy ones among you could work that out.

The system works by using the stylus to drag the columns of numbers either up or down depending on the calculation you are performing. By doing this, and in the right order the numbers at the top will eventually give you the answer you need.
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…..item 1)…. The Magic Brain Calculator …

Perhaps the name of the gadget featured in today’s I Remember JFK memory will ring a bell, perhaps not. But I’ll bet that one glance at the graphic will make you go "Oh, yeah!"

I wish I had my usual researched piece to offer you as far as where the Magic Brain Calculator came from, and its manufacturer, Chadwick. But there just wasn’t a whole lot I could find out. But what little I did glean, I hereby share with you.

A Boomer kid’s options for help in making mathematical calculations on the go in the 50’s and 60’s were pretty few. There were slide rules, which were only for the geeky. My oldest brother, who was in college, had one, but I had no idea how it operated.

Then there was the Addiator, manufactured by Addiator Gesellschaft in Berlin, beginning in 1920. They were sophisticated little hand-held mechanical calculators, but not terribly cheap, and once that nasty Nazi uprising took place, not freely available. But by the time WWII was over, they were back on the market, but still not real cheap.

But in the 1950’s, the Japanese factories began cranking out a low-priced version of the mechanical adding machine. Chadwick was the name of the enigmatic company that manufactured them, and they appear to have slid out of sight without leaving a trace behind.

But they did leave a legacy of thousands of Magic Brain Calculators. Durably made from high-impact plastic and aluminum, probably every one of them still exist in their original form, although many are now buried in landfills, awaiting future archaeological discovery.

The little calculators sold for a couple of bucks in dime stores, and were found in many a Boomer home in the 50’s and 60’s. For that matter, many are still buried in various present-day junk drawers, as they were virtually indestructible, and flat enough to live quietly buried by pens, pencils, and paper clips.

I know that we had one in our house. Seven-year-old I was baffled by its actual usage. Did I mention that math is NOT my strong suit? But that didn’t stop me from enjoying playing with the gizmo for hours nonetheless, inserting numerical values, running mysterious calculations, and pulling the wire handle up to clear everything.

If you too were stumped by how to make the Magic Brain Calculator do addition, subtraction, and even multiplication and division, this site has the original scanned instructions. Very cool!

The sheer indestructibleness of the Magic Brain Calculator, combined with its inobtrusive nature, ensures that many thousands still exist. At presstime, there were several on eBay with .95 opening bids, and one particularly nice model, with stylus intact, was going for .99 with just over a day left.

So if you Boomers still employed in an office want to impress the young punks you work with, pick up a Magic Brain Calculator from eBay, or possibly just dig your own out of the junk drawer. Read the linked instructions and practice making actual calculations, Then, at the next staff meeting, whip out a few figure faster than the youth can get their calculator-equipped cell phones to wake up!
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…..item 2)….. www.wctv.tv … Updated: 8:03 PM Sep 9, 2011 …

THE FOLLOWING IS AN INTERVIEW WITH CERTIFIED FINANCIAL PLANNER, BRUCE HAGAN:

REPORTER: We often hear of the need to create a written budget for our family finances. Exactly what is budgeting and why is it important?

BRUCE: Budgeting is the process of keeping up with where your money goes. It requires you to analyze your current situation, determine your goals, and develop a written plan against which you’ll measure your progress. It’s important because it helps you plan, track, and control the inflow and outflow of your income.

REPORTER: I would think almost everyone budgets to some extent, but do most people actually develop a written plan?

BRUCE: Some people are meticulous about it and others would rather walk through broken glass barefooted than have to take the time to formalize a written plan

REPORTER: Assuming we opt for the former, what are the steps?

BRUCE: The first two steps give you a snapshot of your present financial situation: First you gather all the data that makes up your financial history. Secondly, you use that information to do a cash flow analysis which is simply adding up all sources of income and subtracting all expenses. If you come up with a positive number you’re earning more than you’re spending. If it’s a negative number you need to make some changes to avoid losing more ground financially.

REPORTER: If it’s a positive cash flow is that the end of the process?

BRUCE: No because to the extent you can make cash flow more strongly positive, you’ll be able to save for upcoming needs and investments. Step 3 is to define your financial objectives. Step 4 is to create a spending plan to achieve them. Step 5 is to periodically monitor your progress against the plan and make adjustments as needed. And since life changes, you will need to make adjustments.

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Latest Comments

Posted by: dog Location: gone on Sep 10, 2011 at 10:12 AM

This is easy, money in , money out, where it goes, where you can cut. Save. Live with in your means.

On January 3, 2012, the Leon County Sheriff’s Office responded to 1351 Aenon Church Road, Leon Iron & Metal, after William Grimes discovered a large amount of scrap metal had been stolen from his property in the 4700 block of Capital Circle.

On January 3, 2012, the Leon County Sheriff’s Office responded to 1351 Aenon Church Road, Leon Iron & Metal, after William Grimes discovered a large amount of scrap metal had been stolen from his property in the 4700 block of Capital Circle. Grimes had located uniquely shaped and sized pieces of metal, including metal brackets that he had custom made.

Deputies were able to determine that the metal had been sold on January 2, 2012 by 32 year old Jerimee Hatcher. By working closely with the staff at Leon Iron & Metal, detectives were able to confirm that Hatcher had stolen a total of 5,650 pounds of metal from the fenced lot owned by Grimes.

On January 10, 2012, detectives were able to locate Hatcher in the 3000 block of Tharpe Street and interview him. Hatcher was taken to the Leon County Jail.
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GUARDING CHERNOBYL WITH DISTINCTION.Image by DeeAshley
Even on … Those Days.
There will inevitably be one of, well..,
Those.Days.

[CAUSE AND EFFECT:]
Those days when you wonder if this is what those T.V. psychiatrists always seem to refer to as "disassociation,’ or perhaps even more accurately, an "acute psychotic breakdown."
Those days that we never expect, yet, incredibly, (unfortunately), virtually all human beings will have one or more of Those days.
Those days when you walk into your office expecting that double chocolate birthday cake.
Yet, much to your utter shock and jaw-dropping, heart-stopping horror, you’re met with dumbfounded stares – blankly and unblinking just like that cute little blond co-worker staring past you (or perhaps, through you?) . . .
She almost appears to be making sounds with her mouth, her big blue eyes appearing to have been holding back oceans now breaking free, although she doesn’t seem to care- or notice – as her corneas are now drowning in a sea of water that might very well be the infinite source of saline – she’s saying something… something… – lay-offs, FBI Interviews, lie detector tests, bankruptcy, and such. You slowly do an uneven 360 degree rotation, feeling the cold clammy pre-vomit symptoms quickly knotting your gut and working diligently and quite efficiently upward toward the diaphragm, and you swallow as hard as you can in hopes of choking back any projectiles – which would sadly consist of this morning’s Sara Lee Fat Free muffin and that and rather healthy dose of quaker’s oatmeal. The accountant comes running toward you as you instinctively take a step backwards, she stops short, wailing something about the end, "This is THE END!!" After her choking sobs were more manageable you were able to make out a little bit…
Something about the CFO embezzling all of the company assets, the investors, the pensions, the retirement, even the petty cash and the quarters unfortunate enough to be left unsupervised in the vending machine, "EVERYTHING!" Her shrieks trail off into whimpers for a moment, but like a tide gathering strength, the choking, hyperventilating, nose running unceremoniously down her pudgy red face, gathers strength once again…
After 15 minutes of careful lipreading, hugging, and firm shoulder shaking, you learn of His last possible sighting: Somewhere near Krakow, Poland; playing Texas Hold Em’ with a group of 8 foot embittered pro-Stalin, ex-soviet military men waiting with baited breath for anyone to provide them the opportunity to work out their personal anger issues with their current political views as well as their new tenured posts guarding the perimeter encompassing a well-known and lovely region most commonly called Chernobyl.
Those Days.
Still in shock staring blankly at the empty road ahead, you receive a phone call. Your son didn’t know that that giant chocolate bunny was bad for the kitty.
Your kitty.
"Mommy? How long do I have to leave this icky red stuff in my hair to make it look like yours? It’s starting to burn…!"
You were just about to ask your little loved one to repeat that last part, when you notice a disturbingly familiar and distinctive sound couple by bright lights that are flashing red and blue.
"What seems to be the problem Officer?"
"80 miles per hour?" "Really?" "In a 40?" (Gasp!) "A School Zone!"
"I’m sorry? What..? Phone?"
"Oh! [insert sheepish giggle] you mean this cell phone?"
"Inspection?" "That’s impossible! It couldn’t have been over a year-" stop. Damn stickers!
"They used to be transparent!"
45 minutes later, clutching 5 crispy new citations so tightly, you notice with no satisfaction that your bitten-to-the-nub nails have been digging some impressive holes through that wretched, foul-smelling carbon paper. The fifth ticket was for insubordination after you tell Officer Pursey what else seems to be a bit puckered as well. Despite his interjections, you were able to also remind him of what a sad excuse for a job he must have, picking on hard-working middle class citizens while there are grown men and women selling crack to kids on the street corners and how could he live with himself???
As you can see, one can never predict one of those days . . .
One must act quickly and decisively and take drastic measures in order to have the slightest chance of maintaining even the most precarious, desperate grip on that sad, thin, weathered thread of sanity remarkably similar to that which you are clawing and grasping for – any shred of mental cohesion to cling to.
[THE RULES:]
First of all, when in a rural environment such as this one, you must scream as loud as you can and bang on your steering wheel until your palms are throbbing. Sometimes it is even necessary to allow the head to slowly find its way onto the steering wheel, resulting in a shrieking noise that may cause the local canines to react in a rather agitated manner, but that’s fine. Just let the horn go, the noise will eventually drown itself out. Next, the helpless exhaustion should naturally give way to a dawning sense of indignation. This will happen rather quickly so prepare yourself to brush away any tears, mascara trails, and beware of any unintended shards of plastics or glass that may have been damaged during the end-of-the-world tantrum.
Thankfully, this horrific despair and painful psychic asphyxiation will rapidly give way to your new friend:
Fury. Rage.
A Seething cauldron of fuck-this-fuck-you-fuck-it-all-don’t-even-think-of-cutting-me-off-because-i-will-bludgeon-you-with-these-q-tips kind of all-consuming anger that flows hot and fast through your entire body. That 230 pound trucker that had intended on cutting you off takes one look into that cold empty stare and instinctively knows that this is one of those times when concessions are in order.
And Here, ladies and gentlemen, a photo is born. Who knew what that Toyota 4-cylinder hybrid sedan was really capable of until now? Although you may still be mostly(?) lucid, you’ve lost just enough of that annoying trait commonly referred to by the layperson as, "good judgement."
Before you know it, those Angus Cows are merely blurs in your peripheral, adrenaline-filled darting glances, you note an odd sensation that is reminiscent to barreling down those hilltops on your mother’s best cookie sheet after the first snow as a child. Ah, yes, that is the hydroplaning. No matter, friction is overrated.
What better way to salvage what’s left of this wretched, god-forsaken, nail-in-the-head, day than this?
You should have thought of this before!
What the hell, may as well take a picture. It could turn out kinda cool.

Supplemental:
*No cows, children, CFO’s, accountants, vending machines, felines, Toyotas, or law enforcement officials were actually harmed in the making of this photo. This sad day and its unfortunate series of events are entirely fictional, although there can be no guarantees as to the psychological wellness of the prefrontal cortex responsible for the creation of said events.*